Salmon & Fries

Chapter 1

There's nothing as satisfying as the sound of the school bell after the last period. Or maybe it's quenching your thirst. Oh, I don't know. I have a habit of deviating from what I actually want to say so please bear with me. It was History, worst period. They taught us about the nationalism stuff in India. I was just dying to meet Salmon and tell him about my day. It was one of those rare days when I had something else to share other than my thoughts, or "complex philosophy" as he liked to call it. After keeping an eye at the door of his classroom from the edge of my classroom, getting pushed and swayed by the bags coming out of my class, I finally saw him appear. With all the strength I had, I waded through the crowd of kids who were leaving the school as if it was the last day of their life. I kneed and elbowed and pushed my way, but my tall bony body wasn't much of help. But somehow I tripped and got through, and the first thing I saw was Salmon looking at me, giggling, his eyes all squinted and cheeks all pinkish. I guess he was giggling for a while now. "What you laughing at, nutbag?", I asked. "I like to see you struggle. For a moment, it looks as if you're using some kind of super power", he replied. "Yeah well, I am. It's called 'bearing you'". He chuckled louder. We walked from the hallway to the junior block to the administrative block to the buses because it was a longer route. This was our everyday walking route also because it was beautiful as school was on a hill and hence, ate a lot of breeze and greenery. We never talked during our "walks" because we tried to make the most of the scenery and ambiance. Sometimes, if it was windy enough, I would open my hair and let the breeze entangle itself in the strands of my hair and make them dance, pretending to be a princess who was holding her skirt down to stop it from flying off. Salmon would walk with his jaws clenched and a slight frown on his face, as if he was the lead of some boy band of the 90s doing a dramatic walk sequence. We reached our bus late, as usual, and listened to our bus-in charge rant about how late we always were. She then would sit with the other teachers and gossip about me and Salmon, about how we always walked together in the bus. How we were "boyfriend girlfriend" when we actually were not. We were just pretty amazing friends, I guess. But that's the thing about Indian teachers, they always jump to conclusions when they see the opposite sexes having any kind of contact. We sat on our usual seat, third from the last because it was equidistant from the kids in front who gave us their food and the last seat, where all the nuisance and fun happened.

I remember nothing but the bus rides on our way home. But this day. It was the last day before winter break. Salmon had brought his family famous chicken biryani after a very long time. He used to bring two lunchboxes- a small one which he'd give to the last seat and big one which we'd share. I remember the first time he fed me chicken. It was in a sandwich, he said it was just mayo and bits of onions in it and I believed it. It was delicious. I regretted eating chicken for a week after that because religion, but fuck religion, when you can get food so amazing. But Biryani wasn't the only reason. I remember us talking about the origins of food when it happened, that Samosas and Rajma weren't actually Indian. I remember him trying to hide the leg piece from me when it happened, that I saw him do that and stole a chunk of the meat. I remember the leather watch he was wearing and how he refused to take it off while eating.